We Were Wolves
by Sara Angeldust
Summary: Blue never believed in the place called Paradise. Hige, Kiba, Tsume and Toboe couldn't remember they'd ever been wolves. Can these lost spirits remember their past in time to stop the cycle of pain from beginning again? Post Series. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_We Were Wolves_

**-Chapter 1: No Man's Paradise-**

_By: Sara Angeldust_

Disclaimer:

All characters pertaining the anime/manga Wolf's Rain are property of their creators. I am purely using them for fictional situations and do not claim them as my own.

Spoiler Warning:

If you haven't seen the end of this series, then you don't want to read this fic.

_Summary_:

Is this truly Paradise? After their first search for the place Kiba said would find them happiness, the wolves are now living in a world where they don't remember they were wolves. They're just humans trying to survive the harsh reality before them.

Blue, an assassin and informant for a street gang, can't help but feel something is missing in her life. When she meets Hige, the bumbling klutz and womanizer of her worst nightmares, memories of love, of hate, of struggle and a journey that she can't recall begin to haunt her dreams, and threaten to shatter the only life she's ever believed in.

Can the wolves find each other again in a world that threatens to destroy their lives? Or will events from the past repeat themselves when old enemies return and new struggles begin? Besides, if this isn't Paradise, then what is?

**The Dream**

What _is_ Paradise anyway? I'd never questioned the thought, never believed a word of the silly drabblings that had rippled through our group for many years. I used to believe it was just a dumb story told to children in order to teach them how to dream. That's what I believed, until _he_ came; until he spoke words that opened doors in me that had been shut and locked since as far back as I could remember. Yet I could still hear the infinite whisper deep in my soul. _Paradise_, it teased. It was a word that I had never thought of before; a word lost to me. So then, if I don't believe, then why do I consider leaving everything I've ever known for a bumbling, joking young man with red-brown eyes that pierce me so? Why do I believe in a flash of memory that I can't even make sense out of over a world that has taught me what reality is? But I keep seeing that whisper beyond his eyes, I hear it in his voice when he speaks to me half jokingly. It's telling me something, it's making things _move_ in me.

"…_paradise_..." it whispers.

Yet it all seems like a dream that I can scarcely remember….

**The Life**

I couldn't smell anything as my feet beat the steady rhythm in my head, my nose cold and dry; the black hair of my bangs falling into my face. I couldn't see anything either, but not because of my hair. There was a film before my watering bright blue eyes as I tried to run down the dark hallways of the abandoned apartment building, my breathing heavy, every muscle aching. I could hear the man I was chasing in his vain attempt to find a place to hide, his slamming of doors and heaving breathes keeping me on his path. Even though my eyes had long been accustomed to seeing in darkness much deeper than the peeling, decrepit walls, all I could see before me were the blurry edges of peeling paint and cloudy shadows that I knew were door entrances. I cursed the man I was chasing for inhibiting me, my breath catching in the air as I stopped, gun posed, to check the rooms near the silence of his movement. It was like a deadly dance. He'd stop moving and I would check the rooms around me for any sign of him, using my dulled senses to peak around corners and shoot off a round to scare him into moving again. Then he'd get listless and I'd follow his deep, frightened breathing to another hall, another section of rooms; stopping, waiting, gun shots, running. It was a waltz I was slowly getting tired of and I cursed him again under my breath.

I hated him already for fighting dirty and surprising me on the first floor with some sort of grenade that had spouted a cloud of foul smelling gas. The cloud had stopped me for a second, dulling my senses to the point of having to go by touch and my hearing alone as I stumbled after him. Since then my eyes had almost stopped watering, but my ability to smell, one that I had always relied heavily on , was gone. The over-bearing scent of sulfur and something else I couldn't place making me choke, my vision still blurry beyond the drying tears.

It seemed like so much effort for a man who wasn't even worth the time I was putting into his capture. If I'd had it my way I wouldn't have even been in the situation, but it had been an order from the top, even higher than the man I took orders from. "Find him." They told me. " Find him and bring him back. Don't kill him if you can, but bring him back."

So that 's what I was doing, hunting down another stray something or other for a man I didn't even know. And for what reason? For what ultimate purpose? Humph, ultimate purpose, such a silly question. It was simple; this was the only thing I knew to do, the only thing I had ever known to do. To hunt, to capture, to kill; if the occasion so called for it. It was a cycle I was comfortable with, one I had come to allow to become the normalcy in a life that was far from normal. Yet, beyond that, it was something that felt right for me, even with half my senses dulled. I felt invigorated being put up to the challenge of using my other senses to find a man in a world full of things to lose one's senses in. I felt….alive.

His foot steps finally began to ring louder in my hollowed ears, and I could hear cursing and the slamming of doors as he tried to find an exit, a futile attempt within these damp and rotting walls. As I slowed my pace and found a door to hide behind. I knew from experience that none of the rooms in this area had more than one exit and entrance, and he was too far from any of the flights of stairs. To be truthful, he'd back himself into a corner; there was no way out of this area without going back the way he'd come, and now that was through me.

Slowly but surely I could feel myself getting closer to him, his breathing, his fear, louder then ever in my ears. I could have held my excitement back, but the adrenaline was serving to keep me awake, finally keeping the effects of the gas at bay. Finally he stopped moving and I slid slowly across the wall towards the door he'd entered last. My breathe was low, far too low for him to hear so when I turned flipped around the door frame, my gun poised he couldn't have heard me.

A shot rang out and my finger was still on the trigger. I felt the hit as if someone had shoved me hard, the pain only registering after my anger. I could see the fear in the man's eyes as I rushed toward him, so caught up in my anger that I didn't even shoot him, just smacked him hard with the butt of my gun, a blow that crushed his clavicle. I had been like a flash of lightening, so fast to get from the doorway to the back of the abandoned apartment where he'd shot from that the man was completely caught off guard, so much that he didn't cry out until I was right above him.

"Please! Don't kill me!" He pleaded as he huddled on the floor, crawling into a ball from the pain and fear. If he'd been any less of a man I was sure he'd have wet himself.

I stared at him with cold eyes, not realizing I was breathing so heavily until I found that the sound was my own and not his. I calmed myself as I checked the wound on my shoulder, just a graze. I wiped some of the blood away as I put my gun back to the holster at my thigh, knowing I wouldn't need it anymore; this job was done.

"I'm not going to kill you." I sad monotone, the blood slowing in my veins, the man still astonished and not fully registering what I'd said. I hadn't moved that fast in so long that it had almost shocked me as well. Then again, I wasn't really so normal of a human.

"I'm taking you back."

This strict fear in his eyes, caused him to forget his pain for a second as he crawled and stagger, trying to get away from me. But I was faster and grabbed his wrists before he could move too far, pulling them behind his back, mindful of his crushed left collar bone.

"Don't, don't take me back there!" I ignored his pleas as I dragged him to the door frame, less concerned with how easily I could move him and more of getting him back down those 3 flights of stairs without much fuss.

"Don't do it, I'll tell you what I know! I'm sure you want the information, you can sell it!"

I wasn't interested, so I ignored him. He wasn't the first to try and sell what he knew for his life and he probably wouldn't be the last, I just had no interest in what he offered. My job was always simple; find the target and either bring it back or kill it, the in-between was the fun part, listening to them jabber was not.

"Paradise!" I paused for a split second at the 2nd floor, giving him a quick look then forgetting what he'd said.

"See, see you do want to know! I know how to get to Paradise, I know you've heard of it, come on I…"

I pulled my gun faster then he'd taken the time to register the fact. I didn't know what'd come over me, but that word had struck something within me and it made me want to kill him.

"Listen good, I don't have any interest in what you're trying to sell."

I could taste my own anger in the air. He gulped as he stared at the gun pressed against his forehead, I was still rather struck by this man, he was holding back more pain and fear then I imagined someone like him could.

"It's what they're looking for." He stared slowly, his eyes watching the gun, cautious with how he handled this pissed off woman with a pistol pointed at his head.

"Why would I care?" I spat, just wishing he'd stop talking before I decided to kill him and say it was an accident.

"Don't you want to know?" He said with curious eyes. "Don't you want to get out of this hell hole and live some place where you don't have to point a gun at someone's head to survive?"

My eyes bulged and my temper flared. How dare he strike that nerve, how dare he talk to me like he knew me. I'd had it and cracked him one over the head, deciding it would cause me much less stress if I carried the bastard back instead of dragging his sorry ass down those two more flights.

"No." I said to myself, putting my gun away again and hefting him over my shoulder like a sack of charcoal.

"This place, this life, it might _be_ Hell, but it's reality."

_There's no such thing as Paradise._

**The Beginning**

I didn't mind living with the people in the gang, didn't mind that we were really only puppets in some business man's little production. I didn't even mind that I lived like a convict with a list of charges so long that any judge would have loved to track me down. Those things I didn't mind, but what I did mind was when people entered the gang and I didn't know about it. Especially when Brasco picked a new informant. Sneaky little bastards they were, and often inexperienced. Some kid or other he'd pick off the streets, often looking for a way of getting quick cash for drugs or something worse. They never survived either, they usually bit it in a few weeks time and they were all annoying, all kids. It was enough to give me a headache.

I'd just dropped off the noisy man, taking him to some office building in the city where Brasco'd been waiting. Brasco and some man in a nice suit, shiny and clean, who looked at me with a hunger I'd seen many a time on the men who frequented the prostitute filled streets in the area. I didn't even bother him a death glare, he didn't warrant it.

I left the men to their devices as I stood in darkness in the hall, finally hearing feet scrape and a door knob turn.

"He said he'd forego the hospital charges if you'd be so kind as to accompany him for the night." Brasco said as he came out of the room, adjusting his nicely pressed jacket and tie, pulling out a cigarette, lighter filling the corridor for an instant before it became a red dot in the darkness. I was leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for him to finish the talk he'd wanted in private with the man in the nice suit. I snorted at him. Not even the gang leader could make me do something so low. We'd come to an agreement the day I'd joined, the same day Brasco'd almost lost an eye when he'd tried that testosterone driven stunt on me. We had an agreement; he didn't touch me, I did what he wanted.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not one of your whores. Send one of them to him if he wants to strike even so badly."

Brasco chuckled, his dark blonde hair bouncing for a second before he scratched the short facial hair he'd collected on his chin. The man wasn't bad looking, and in his mid thirties, still young for his line of work. He was a lawyer by honest trade, but it was always obvious to me that he was a devious man, despite his good looks and formal education. He was quite knowledable in the way his handsome face and charm could get him almost anything he wanted. He was the perfect specimen to be a gang leader. Calm, cool, collected and intelligent to a fault. He wasn't really that disgusting for a man who was feared most in the city besides the business men and politicians he worked for. I could almost say I was friends with him, but I knew better then to trust such a man with my life. He'd given me an apartment, kept me with enough money to live by, and in turn I was his assassin, his go getter, a lap dog with honor, if there was such a thing. Had things been different maybe, just maybe we'd have been something more, but those types of thoughts were the ones that could get one killed, and I never let them infiltrate my head.

"One step ahead of you sweets."

I cringed as we left the building and crossed the darkened street, Brasco's car parked across the street and a block down from the building we'd exited. I caught a name printed on the side in bright letters, thought I'd recognized it, then let the thought fall away.

Prostitution. There was something I would never see myself doing, being a whore for any man who wanted me. Those women were the lowest of the low to me, nothing more then walking dead, clinging to any bit of light they might have found themselves entangled in. Yet they were Brasco's second biggest money maker, only slightly less profitable then his intelligence gathering services, of which I'd joined and made flourish. Businessmen paid big for someone who could keep their beds warm at night, right up there with someone who could get rid of a problem in secrecy and quiet, or bring them back something they lost. And I was good at the later, really good.

As we pulled onto the dead road and struck our way out across the highway, the words the man had said to me played again and again in my head.

_Paradise_. Why couldn't I get the words out of my head?

Brasco was talking to me now, but I didn't have the mind to listen to him. The street lights flew by my eyes and I just kept repeating what he'd said over and over, an endless tape that I couldn't stop. I thought it had just been the adrenaline that'd caused it to touch something within me, but even now, when the high had become complacent, the word kept repeating. Why….

"Hey." We'd stopped a red light, I hadn't even noticed we'd gotten off the highway, I grasped for my senses as they came slamming back to me, everything crisp and harsh again.

"Did that guy do something to you? You seem a little out of it."

I shook my head, rubbing a temple and then feeling for my wound again. The bleeding had stopped long ago.

"A sensory grenade. I guess the gas is still effecting me." It was a lie, sort of. But I didn't want Brasco on my ass about why I'd blanked out, it wasn't something he needed to know.

He gave me a quick glance before the light turned green and we continued on our way back to the south side of the city, to familiar grounds.

"Well then get some sleep and come rested tomorrow, I'll have the new guy there for you by 6pm."

I flicked my head to stare at him. "New guy?"

Brasco shot me a look. "Yeah, that's what I was just talking about. Man, you're gunna lose it if you keep letting those things get to you. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

I was rather pissed now that he'd shot a flare at my pride, but shook his words away.

"I already said I'm fine, just tell me again."

Brasco sighed, another red light.

"I've got a new informant coming in tomorrow. I think he's the same age as you, but he's still inexperienced. I want you to set him up in his apartment and drag him along with you to a few house calls. He might be young, but he's hardy and I want him to start tagging on your sources."

I wanted to smack the man so badly right then, but I grasped the leather seats instead. I didn't want to bother driving myself home, it was nice to have someone else do it for you sometimes.

"Damn it Brasco, I don't need a dog." I spat, trying to cover up the pout I wanted to extend his way.

But Brasco caught it, a smile catching the corner of his mouth as he stared ahead at the darkened streets, I recognized our surroundings as we got closer to the apartment building.

"He just needs a little bit of training Blue, this won't be a permanent thing. Besides, you're the only one I trust to do the job right without corrupting him. I've got enough shit to deal with in my own gang without having to worry if a new kid's gunna try and bring me down someday."

I snorted, he was right though. I myself had dealt with a bunch of up starts who had tried to bring Brasco down from his high horse months or so back; ones he was still cleaning up after. It wasn't out of any sort of loyalty to him, but I didn't want to see the life I had given so much to gain, lost. It was for my protection and not his and no matter how much he thought he had control over me, deep down he knew he didn't, and was always careful with me.

I sighed, my signal that I was giving in, as I usually did. There was nothing left for me to protest in that situation, it was a request, and a doable one at that, albeit not so fun. It didn't take much to train new informants, mostly it was a matter of introducing them to the right people at the right time, they'd usually take it from there, and most of them did a good job; the bad ones died.

"Ugh, fine. But I'm not a babysitter. He gets ones chance to screw up then he's on his own."

Brasco nodded as we finally turned onto a street that I knew, the one in front of my apartment building. It was a seven blocks or so from the office building that Brasco's façade Lawyer company owned, close enough that I was reachable, but far enough away that I almost felt like I was on my own. Yet even that was a façade, he even owned the apartment building this far out, but not many knew that fact.

I opened the car door and got out, looking around as per usual, I couldn't be too careful, even in that area. I stood with my hand on the top of his car, bending down to peak back inside.

"You know, you're going to shoot yourself in the foot with these young guys one day Brasco, they die way too easily."

I heard him chuckle again, throwing the butt of his third cigarette out the opposite window as he stretched his fingers across the steering wheel.

"As well it should be, it keeps the loop fresh."

I humphed as I closed the door in front of me, Brasco taking it as his cue to pull forward and down the street as I began to search for my key in my jacket pocket. Everything rushed through my head for a split second as I felt my body recognize where I was. I told it to quiet down as I walked the flights of stairs to my apartment and shut the door behind me, just wishing I could get a shower and go to bed. The red lights on the clock in my small kitchen read 3:46am. I sighed as I threw my torn jacket on the counter. Late nights were going to kill me.

**The Darkness**

The room was dark, and not just the kind of dark that night brings, but deliberate darkness. A darkness that would draw the will to live out of the souls of anyone it touched, darkness that was created, not birthed. Someone breathed heavily in the dark, a man bound to a chair that didn't move, his arms and broken collar bone aching as the ropes dug harsh lines into his skin. A slight trickle of blood from a wound on his forehead slid blood down his cheek, giving him the impression of a man who had been through much that night.

Suddenly a break in the darkness caused the man to look up, the bright light from the door he faced opening to reveal another man, taller, less ravaged than he. His pulse quickened slightly at the familiarity of this man with dark hair and a lab coat, hazel eyes hidden behind glasses that saw the world with contempt.

"Ah, there you are Forrester." The man spoke, walking with strict stature towards the bound man in the chair to fumble for a chain to a light. He pulled it and the lone bulb clicked on, revealing the room to be a small abandoned janitorial closet, dirty from neglect, the rusty shelves the only proof it had ever been used.

The man with glasses patted his familiar friend on the head, a gesture meant to be demeaning rather then friendly.

"I see they brought you back, fantastic. Perhaps you can help us finish what we.."

"I saw one."

The man with the lab coat stopped, giving Forrester a look that could have killed had he been looking. He'd had a speech all planned out and ready, and he'd interrupted him.

"You _what?_" His words bit hard, more because of the interruption then from Forrester's reply.

"I saw an ookami, a wolf."

Now the bound man's words were hitting him as the man in the coat kneeled down to stare at his helpless friend.

"You've always embellished your words Forrester.."

The man bound to the chair pleaded now.

"I'm not lying, how could I?"

The man in the coat sighed, taking a knife from the pocket of his jacket as he turned to the back of the chair to undo the ropes that held Forrester there.

"Where was it?"

Forrester fell helplessly to the ground, the man in the lab coat only reaching down to help him up as if he were a piece of trash he'd dropped by accident. As Forrester struggled to stand, the man began to help him from the room, trying not to get the blood on his nice white coat.

"The one who hunted me down, she wasn't normal, not at all. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on her."

Forrester's words were choked with pain, but the other man made no recognition of this, he just carried him from the room, his eyes betraying the glee in his thoughts.

"Well shit Forrester, could you give us a harder target?"

Forrester cringed, but not at the mans words. He was squeezing him like a bag of potatoes, completely careless of his wounds. He tried to calm his aching body.

"This means we can't use the gang to get her."

The other man snorted. "No Forrester, no we can't."

End of Chapter One. I hope it wasn't too long for any of you. I tried to keep it interesting, put a little twist at the end to leave you with a "Huh?". If anyone has any comments on the length, let me know. But I warn you now if I shorten it any the entire story is going to get really long.

Comments and criticism are always welcome. Keep the flames to a minimum, I don't respond to them.

I finished this chapter pretty quickly, so the next one shouldn't take too long. I think I got my fan fiction muse back!

-Sara


	2. Chapter 2

_We Were Wolves_

**-Chapter 2: Those We've Forgotten-**

_By: Sara Angeldust_

**Author's Note:** I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story on I have really enjoyed writing this and I almost forgot that. Thank you for reminding me how much I love these characters, and for helping me breathe life back into a story I had decided to ignore. I'm going to finish this one; promise. Reviews are always appreciated.�

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**The Encounter**

Morning always came too early for me. It seemed like sleep, with its comfort and endless dreams, slipped away with too much ease. The world I left every night wasn't much different than the world I woke to. Dreams, like memories, flashed behind my eyelids. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I could barely even recall what I'd seen in those flashes. All I felt, all I remembered when I woke, was that I was forgetting something important. Someone was trying to tell me something and I didn't speak their language. I was long since used to the disappointed, guilty feeling I had most mornings, and often continued on without a second thought. That morning especially, the guilt felt like it was bouncing up and down against my chest; a small child trying in vain to get my attention. Like an uncaring parent, I got up and instantly forgot about it. 

I followed the usual routine of waking by 1pm, taking a shower and finding something edible in my starving refrigerator. Brasco had long since deposited my work money into the bank account he had given me, but there had been no time for grocery shopping this week. As I rubbed my wet hair with a towel and stared into the white of the fridge, my stomach grumbled. Moldy cheese and a half eaten left over container of chicken alfredo stared back, begging to be put out of its misery in the trash can. Oh well. Today seemed like a great day for a burger. 

The tease of a double cheese burger pushed me to get dressed quickly, blue jeans, my boots and a soft t-shirt my idea of comfort. There was no point in getting dressed up for a pup. Today was going to involve a lot of running around, and I had to a least look mildly friendly. I grabbed my jacket, ignoring the tear near the shoulder, and locked the door on my way out. 

My blue-black, wild hair tossed slightly in the afternoon breeze, and I drew my hands into the pockets of my black jacket as I walked out of my apartment building. Even in this outer part of the city, the streets were filled with people making their way hurridly to where ever they were trying to go. Law offices and a few banks dotted the streets on each side, so a sea of suits in all kind of colors was the usual spectacle here. A few lost tourists here and there tried to make their way through the throng, and seemed to me like sheep in a pack of wolves. Once in a while as I waked down the side walk, someone would move from my path, a small nod the only other recognition I would receive. Brasco was known here, and so was his pet project. Of all the cold stares I received or didn't, more than half of them were the haunted expressions of men and women who lived two lives. This place was light above, tourists were like wandering angels walking amongst humans. If only they knew what these humans knew of the dark side of this city. I wondered if they would even dare to walk these side walks if they had the slightest clue. 

It took me less than five minutes to reach Brasco's office; a larger sky scraper between a formidable bank and an abandoned factory being zoned for apartments. SKY TOWER OFFICES screamed at me from the front and I followed the crowd of suits through the front entrance. Lavish glass doors and nicely decorated entrance desk polished to black marble perfection greeted me. It was all such a big faced lie. Brasco had been able to secure a floor in Sky Tower by beginner's luck. Unlike most crisp, new lawyers in the city, he hadn't been eaten alive by the underworld contained here, but embraced it. Thus, his single floor had multiplied into five in the eighty story business scrapper. 

I glanced slowly at the glass-cased listing of what floors were what behind the large reception desk. SUTHERMAN AND CO repeated itself like a pattern from floors 20 through 25, a small fish in a lineup of eight other Inc. and Co. that dominated the listing. 

I looked down and watched the five or so secretaries at the reception desk babbling away on head sets as they kept their sparkly eyes on those entering the building. These dolls were the latest trick Sky Tower had added to its ruse of being a building for honest business. It took a trained eye to see beyond the smiling, conversational faces of anyone who came through those doors. If everyone could read the thoughts behind those eyes, I doubted if anyone would want to walk through those beautiful, lying glass doors. 

I passed the reception desk without much fuss and found my way into a crowded elevator full of suits. The amount of talking that filled the small elevator was enough to cause my overly sensitive ears to pound, and I did my best to ignore the raspy voices of business men. Someone had already pressed the floor I needed, so all there was left was to ball my hands into fists and try to forget that half the calls made in that elevator would result in someone lying dead in an alley, or worse. 

When I finally made it to Brasco's floor, Katie, the receptionist, greeted me with a healthy smile and a knowing nod. Her bouncy brunette hair and easy smile were two of the only things that ever seemed to relax me in this office. She was a familiar scent in a foreign place and had always treated me kindly ever since I had joined Brasco. 

"Hey hun," she offered as if her nineteen years made her older than my twenty-two, "Mr. Cartly is waiting for you in his office." 

"Thanks, Katie," I said back, letting my mouth offer up the smallest smiles. It wasn't right to treat someone so kind so harshly, even here. 

I walked past the blue painted hallways of the entrance and entered the main office. Packed desks and hurrying associates erupted with the noise of a busy law firm, everyone rushing like mice in a trap to get done what they needed. Here the ruse of business suits ebbed slightly as people took off their jackets and rolled up their sleeves; the women revealing low-cut tops and short skirts. This was where the real business was done, and you could align yourself with some of the biggest under-ground networks if you just spoke with the right person. Brasco's office was at the extreme end of the huge, open floor, and my keen eyes watched him speaking to two people, a woman and a man, through the sound proof glass. I sighed and made my way through the throng of heated associates. 

Here everyone kept out of my way. No one really dared to make eye contact, but they all knew who I was and not to disturb me. Rumors didn't need to tell people that I was dangerous, something else about me did that instead. Perhaps it was my inhumanly blue eyes, or the looping way I moved, even when relaxed. Katie had once told me that I always looked as if I was going to jump up and knock someone down, like some kind of predator. I watched the slow way people in the office moved, or at least, what seemed slow to me. Someone raised a coffee mug to their wrinkled mouth and I watched him, realizing that one of my fists around that warm mug would shatter it to pieces, and probably ruin the man's hand. It was small realizations like that that reminded me I was not like these people. I had no idea why that was, but I had forgotten to wonder about it long ago. I was what I was; I had learned that much by working for Brasco a couple of years prior. I had accepted it. 

I knocked on the decorated door and watched through my peripheral vision as Brasco glanced my way. His smiled shone like the glare of the sun, and I knew that whoever was on the other side of the door wasn't someone I should be talking to willingly. I steadied myself and remembered the usual script he had set up for me when I had first joined. Brasco came to the door and greeted me kindly. 

"Karen! What a nice surprise! I'm sorry honey, but I'm in a bit of a meeting right now." I wanted to smack the silly smile off of his face. I secretly believed that Brasco looked forward to the times he got to play this game with me. He knew how much I hated it. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry Uncle." I spat back, a little less apologetic than my words should have sounded. 

I looked past Brasco at the two detectives that sat in his office. One was a woman with a kind smile and blonde hair pulled up into a spiky pony tail, and falling bangs. The man was equally as bubbly, his soft features welcoming and kind, hiding a tenacity I could smell from across the room. My nose also told me that they were a couple and hiding something behind whatever they were talking to Brasco about. I gave them a small smile and let Brasco bring me in. I was quickly becoming a well timed distraction, I realized. Brasco didn't want these people in his office. 

"I'm sorry detectives; this is my niece, Karen. Karen these are Detectives Degré and Lebowski." 

"Hello Karen," Lebowski said as he rose to shake my hand, "nice to meet you."

I shook his hand and then Degré's, feeling the tension through their palms. They suspected Brasco of something he probably did. 

"The detectives were just asking me some questions about last night." Brasco said.

"He tells us he was out to dinner with you at McCarthy's last night, is that true Ms.?" Lebowski asked, his face not so much stern, but practiced. He had found a way of looking in charge and yet seemingly harmless at the same time.

"Yes, that's right," I replied, "I live alone, so Uncle Cartly was taking me out to dinner. McCarthy's I guess, they had good steak."

My face hid no traces of lies, this much I knew. Lebowski seemed content with that answer, scribbled something in a note book he carried and then stood. 

"Well then," he said, placing the small book in his jacket pocket, "I guess that ends our questions. We're sorry to have bothered you at such a busy time Mr. Cartly."

Brasco smiled and shook the man's hand, pausing as Degre handed him a small card. 

"If you happen to hear anything suspicious around the building, you'll contact us, won't you?" She asked simply, hear manicured hand shaking Brasco's larger one. 

"Of course," Brasco said back, he was very good at playing the energetic, young lawyer, "I will most definitely do so."

Lebowski grabbed his hat from the rack in the corner of the office and followed Degre out. When they were far enough onto the floor that they couldn't look back, Brasco quickly closed the blinds on all of his windows and flopped into his chair. He sighed and paged Katie on his phone.

"Katie, can you cancel the rest of my appointments for the day? I'm beat."

An energetic 'Yes sir' came from the other end, and Brasco raised his eyes to mine as I glared back at him.

"You enjoyed that far too much." I sneered at him. Brasco only smiled.

"Perhaps, but you saved my shiney ass. Perfect timing, they didn't believe my story at all until you popped in."

I snorted and fell down into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. "I didn't know we looked so well related. That wasn't about last night, was it?"

Brasco shook his head. "No, I'm guessing someone finally found Demetri's body. I knew Kirk's last move was to not properly dispose of it."

I recalled the name Kirk as an ex hit man of Brasco's. The man had turned on him and I had been the one to send him to the place Brasco felt betrayer's deserved. But something wasn't right.

"Then why were they asking you about last night's alibi?"

Brasco smiled. "To see what my reaction would be. They expected me to realize that someone had found Demetri and to look guilty. It almost worked too."

I shook my head. "You must be slipping, Brasco."

He smiled and stood, making his way toward his coat rack. "Yeah, well, all of these guys turning isn't helping business. Those were the second set of detectives snooping around here this week. I'm going to lose customer base if it looks like I'm infected."

"So you're hiring a new guy to fix it?" I jeered back. I wasn't happy with this situation any more than he was, and he knew it. 

"Got to replace what I've lost," he replied, grabbing his jacket as I followed him out the office door. 

Brasco had decided to meet the new informant at a small cafe a good number of blocks down from the office building. It was far enough out to be away from Brasco's usual ground, and close enough that it was plausible that he was taking his "niece" out for lunch. 

The café was crowded with lunch patrons, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as it usually did in crowds. My senses began to heighten, readying themselves as the scent of coffee, sandwich meat, cheese and sweat made its way to my nostrils. It was a simple Italian styled thing, a bar against the far wall showing what it had been before the current owners had changed it around. Nice tables and chairs were spread around the open area, paintings greeting eyes that wandered to the walls. People, mostly in work clothes, sat and chatted with each other, a few business men with laptops and PDAs clicking away as waitresses tried to get their attention. 

I watched the scene, assessing the exits and possible problems in this new place. I had never been here before, I realized, and as such I was making sure I knew how to get out. One couldn't be careful when it came to Brasco and anything involving his "business."

Brasco found a table near the back and asked the pretty blond waitress for coffee as we sat to wait. I watched a couple of knowing patrons glance in our direction, one even deciding it was best he left as inconspicuously as possible. I turned to Brasco. 

"I didn't know you were famous this far out," I said, gesturing at the man who was making, what he believed, was a stealthy retreat.

Brasco shrugged his shoulders. "It's new territory," he said, smiling as the waitress brought him his coffee black, "and hopefully no one recognizes you out here. You aren't quite the approach I'm trying to take to these parts."

I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the glass of water the waitress had put down in front of me. This area was getting further away from the corrupted business district and into the touristy part of the city. It made sense that Brasco wouldn't want to bring my kind of "approach" to an area like this. He fought fire with fire, and if he could dominate a market with kindness, well, Brasco was one of the only men of his kind that could probably do it. There were still business men and companies out here that could probably use a less lethal version of the services he provided. I guessed this was his way of branching out in ways not many others thought of. Brasco was a virus behind a pretty face, and as I looked around the quaint and quiet restaurant, I wondered how much of his disease would show through once Brasco had set up shop. Perhaps this little place would revert back to the bar it had once been. 

We waited for twenty minutes while Brasco nawed on a BLT and I brought my glass's water level down by centimeters. I wanted to ask why Brasco was tolerating such lateness from a new guy, but didn't want to look like I cared. In all honesty, I wasn't bothered by this new guy's punctuality, but more by the fact that I was in a new place and didn't know what was going on. I had memorized the layout of the restaurant, but I was out of my comfort zone. I hated not knowing what was going on. 

Suddenly, Brasco caught some food in his throat and quickly swallowed, raising his arm to try and get someone's attention. I followed Brasco's eyes to a figure that had just entered the restaurant and was bumbling its way toward us. I watched what I realized was a young man make his way toward us, a silly smile plastered on his face like he was meeting an old friend. Brasco stood and shook the young man's hand, playing along with the charade. I looked up at the frumpy kid and wanted to gag. He was about my height, his messy red-brown hair looking as if he never brushed it. I surveyed his blue hoodie and jeans and saw no threat in them. He wasn't heavy-set, but definitely built slightly husky; I could see the thin line of natural muscle beneath the arms of his hoodie. He tried to shake my hand and I ignored him, Brasco laughing at me as he motioned for the kid to sit down. 

"Sorry I'm so late," the young man said, his voice carrying a joyfulness in it that I knew wasn't fake, but I instantly hated. This guy was way too happy for his line of work. 

Brasco smiled at him and flagged down a waitress to get the kid a menu. I watched the stress fall away from Brasco's shoulders as he settled into a dumb conversation. I was dumbfounded that Brasco would let his guard down so easily. Was he really so trusting of this kid?

I inspected the new guy as intently as I dared. His eyes were an odd red-brown color and wide, his easy smile giving him youth even though he couldn't be any older than me. His husky build complimented his face and made him look welcoming. He was definitely in shape for his size, and I watched the thin muscles move on his arm. 

Brasco's voice interrupted my inspection.

"Blue, this is Hige; Hige, Blue."

I looked up and watched Hige give me a big smile, trying again to reach out and shake my hand. I gave him another glare and didn't move. If this was going to work the way Brasco wanted it to, this newbie needed to know who was boss and that I wasn't going to give into his act. I heard Brasco laugh as Hige pulled his hand away.

"Don't mind her," he said as he patted the kid's shoulder, "she's a little spiked around the edges, but a good girl. She'll teach you well."

Hige smiled and looked me in the eyes. For a second, I felt something move in the back of my mind. It hurt, and a voice whispered something in my ear. I quickly ignored it, but couldn't stop the feeling from that morning suddenly sliding into my body.

�

* * *

**Author's note: **By request, I have shortened the chapters of this story. This means that the whole fanfic is going to have more chapters, but so be it, I guess.

Again, thank you to everyone still sticking around. You guys don't know how much that means to me. This story is really beginning to evolve into something different than it started, and I'm excited to be writing it out. See everyone next time!


	3. Chapter 3

_We Were Wolves_

**-Chapter 3: I'm Still Waiting-**

_By: Sara Angeldust_

* * *

**The Boy**

"Hey, doesn't this kind of look like we're on a date?"

Oh great, he was one of _those_ guys, the ones that thought they were funny and hit on anything with breasts. They were usually harmless, but always annoying.

Hige was resting on his chin on his left arm, his empty plate cleaner than anything a dish washer could have attempted. Brasco had introduced us each other and left us to our own devices, faking a busy schedule even after Katie had made sure to alleviate that problem for him. He didn't want to deal with a newbie any more than I did. But unlike Brasco, I couldn't get away.

As I watched Hige blather on about what he new about the area (he had lived here since he was fifteen), I couldn't help but notice the calm demeanor with which he spoke. The more he talked, the harder I tried to imagine him with a gun in his hand, or worse, trying to intimidate someone. I felt the need to giggle at the last image, something I hadn't done in a long time. Hige stopped, noticing the small smile that had played across my lips.

"Ah, ha," he said, a fresh smile spreading across his face, "I knew you could smile."

I immediately wiped the grin off of my mouth and gave him a serious face.

"Listen," I barely snarled back at him, "we have a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do it in. I suggest you get your brain in gear." But the smile wouldn't go away. I could feel it playing around the edges of my mouth and behind my lips. The sensation sent sparks down my neck and I tried my best to hold my face together. It was like a joke that I had remembered a week ago was trying to come back with vengeance.

I didn't know if Hige could see what was going on in my head, but he turned his smile into something a bit more professional and stood, waiting for me to do the same.

We left the café and headed back in the direction of the business district. The second I stepped out of the noisy restaurant and into the even noisier streets of the tourist district, the hairs on my neck stood and I was back to my regular self. I blamed the café and the unfamiliar territory for the smile and wrote it all off as nothing more than that. Having lived where I did for so long, it seemed natural to me that part of me, the part I had lost, would try to claw its way to the surface when shown any sort of light.

Hige and I took our time going north, my nuclear blue eyes taking in every sight I could; from the too bright department stores, to the noisy tourists and the way everyone walked. I never wanted to feel like a foreigner again.

"You know, you would blend in a lot easier if you smiled once and a while." Hige's voice felt like a cloud drifting into my stiff thoughts. I decided to ignore him, his words floating past me, but he took his arm and threaded it through mine. I jerked back a little, but held back the urge to tear my arm from his. He was right. I knew that my demeanor probably wasn't the friendliest, but it kept people away and that was how I had learned to live. It angered me that he would take such liberties and I was surprised that I hadn't scared him yet. I saw no fear or resentment in his eyes, only playfulness. He angered me in the worst possible way.

It wasn't long before we reached familiar ground and I saw my apartment building rise up in front of me. I watched Hige take in his surrounding, his eyes flitting back and forth from people to building and back again.

"Nice," he said, whistling as he looked up at the skyline above him. Clouds danced outside of my view as they ran between silver, mirror after mirror. I almost had to cover my eyes from sun shining on metal. I guessed so, but the niceness of the building that Brasco had purchased so long ago had never occurred to me. I ate, slept and bathed there. There had never been much more to the building to me than that.

"Glad you think so," I snarked back at him, "because it's going to be your new home."

Hige stared back at me, surprise clear on his face. I couldn't believe that an informant would be so unaware that his new employer would be supplying his housing. Then again, maybe he had never had a boss who put him up in such a nice place before. He didn't look like the kind of guy that would work for anyone that looked as legit as Brasco. I ignored him and began walking toward the entrance, not really caring if he followed.

It didn't take me long to find 432, and when I stepped in I recognized the design of the apartment since it mirrored mine almost to the T. We walked into a semi-bare living room, the furnishings modest; a couch in the center, Television and small hutch framing it. The walls had a few stock pictures and the hall way to the bedroom on my left looked just as normal as the living room. I watched Hige as he looked upon his new living space. The surprise never fully left his face, but I finally saw the calculating look in his eyes that I had been waiting for. He took a once around the apartment, checking the windows and the furniture. He oogled the TV, getting giddy over the "grandness" of it all. Even in his excitement I could see it. He was checking the exits, and the distances between them. We all needed to know how to get out of places; our own apartments especially.

When he was satisfied with his space I motioned him back towards the door.

"We're going somewhere?" I rolled my eyes. So perhaps I was speaking too soon. Either this guy was completely dumb…or an extremely good actor. I was fairly sure he wasn't the latter.

"I have clients that you need to meet," I stated plainly, "I'm sure you know the drill."

Hige smiled his huge grin, looking too calm for the task at hand.

"They've got to see my pretty face. I got cha. Lead the way oh, fierce one."

I didn't wait for Hige to reach the door, instead I found satisfaction in almost slamming in his face. I was thwarted when he caught it and it clicked closed behind us. Damn.

On the way back downstairs, someone nudged my left arm. It took more control than it should have to not grab them and toss whoever it was aside, but my brain reminded me where I was. This apartment building held innocent people, it's what kept Brasco's charade partially legit; a normal population to cover your ass.

The boy who had hit me ran past, turning around with a smile. He was small and rather petite for a boy. His red hair hung to his shoulders with a small flip. For a second I thought I was looking at a girl. When I took a second look I could see the fit muscle beneath his red t-shirt and the strong way he held himself. Definitely not like a girl.

"Sorry, lady!" The boy waved and smiled, meeting my eyes and taking a glance behind me. Something in the boy's gaze made me look back too, where I met Hige's brown orbs. For a second I thought I saw something flash in them, but it was gone before I could even register what it was. Hige shrugged his shoulders.

"Kids. Aren't they cute?"

I grunted something intangible and watched the young boy run down the hall towards the stairs. We were only four floors up, so the action wasn't odd. I tried to remember if I had ever seen him before as I led Hige down the hall toward the elevator. For some reason, the boy's red hair kept flaming to life in my mind. I waited for my brain to put some lost puzzle piece together, but I just couldn't manage it. Oh, well. I ignored the nuisance and tried to concentrate on what I had to do. It was going to be a long afternoon.

**The Others**

Feet ran scrapping down the dark, unused alley; the body they carried short in statue, but quick and agile in speed. The young boy dodged and leapt over trash barrels and alley cats, his curious brown eyes watching them dart out of his way. Even with these inviting distractions, he kept on running; his breathing un-naturally relaxed, his shoulder length red hair free and flying as he hurried through what seemed to be mazes.

It didn't take him long to find the exit he looked for; another section of the maze that was the alleys, areas of the city that no one really dared to travel down besides this seemingly innocent boy. Yet, once he turned that alley it was only a few feet until the light of the setting sun filtered through the abandoned buildings, opening into a wide, open asphalt haven.

The area had probably once been a parking lot, forgotten long ago and then built around. The buildings around it barely stood, one medium sized apartment building still standing strong, like a testament to the fight still left even in the decaying borders of the city. Yet even here, where it should have been desolate, a small group of people had gathered.

They were only three in number, but each of them was distinct in their own way. A dark skinned man with short gray hair stood watching the boy reach his destination. His muscular arms were folded across his chest. The tight t-shirt he wore showed each muscle across his chest and covered the edges of a silver birth mark. The man's fierce features softened a little as the boy got closer to them, but his stance screamed of a fight.

The other two in the group looked much more docile. A young man the same age as the dark skinned one sat near the edge of a building. His feathered brown hair covered parts of his face, and his brown leather jacket was torn in a few places. His features were much softer than the other mans, but there was a hidden power behind them. His blue eyes captured his soul, and they were hard to break away from. Where the darkly tinted man looked harsh and rugged, this man looked like the wind incarnated into human form. One leg set out straight, the other bent at the knee. His jeans were worn, but not dirty.

Beside this man stood a petite girl. Her frame was covered by a large jacket that hid her small body, but not the white dress that she wore. Her oddly colored eyes stared blankly into the coming darkness, her head moving to listen to the sound of the boys' padding feet. Her left hand mingled in the brown hair of the young man that sat at her feet, almost as if she were petting him. The brown haired man with fierce blue eyes didn't mind this; the action even seemed to soothe him.

As the young boy entered the hidden alcove, he caught sight of the person he sought and his eyes lit up.

"Tsume! Tsume!"

A semi-muscular smiled slightly, his lightly golden eyes watching the boy with mixed emotions. As the boy reached him the man's posture relaxed, as if he'd been expecting the news he carried with him.

"Oy, Tsume, I saw him, I saw Hige!"

The man's eye brows twitched a millimeter, but his face didn't change. If he could show his emotions so easily, perhaps surprise would have popped its head up.

"Well let's have the story then, runt." The man said, seemingly impatient, but the boy didn't twitch, he just opened his mouth excitedly.

"Well you see, I even saw…"

"The lost one was found?"

The voice was bell like and tiny, coming appropriately from the girl standing beside the brown haired man. She looked without actually seeing to the little boy.

The small boy gave her a sad look then nodded his head. He had wanted to tell the story himself, but it seemed as if she'd beaten him to the punch line.

"How'd you know Cheza?"

The girl smiled, her cloudy, unseeing eyes almost reflecting the smirk on her lips.

"Kiba?"

"The blue one, right?" Kiba said, his voice monotone, yet just as knowing as the girl.

Toboe, which was the small boys' name, looked at Kiba with a pout on his lips.

"Man, I wanted to tell. Yeah, it was her, but I don't completely remember who she was. I mean, I still can barely remember what the flower smelle…"

"Does she remember?"

Toboe looked back when Kiba spoke, the man's flat, seemingly uncaring voice bringing him out of his thoughts.

Toboe danced on his feet, anxious with his news.

"No, I don't think so. She would have remembered me, even though I don't remember her. She didn't look very happy, but Hige winked at me, so I guess he's got it under control."

Tsume grunted, a harsh sound that came from deep in his throat. "Yeah, I'm sure he does. I just can't believe he got in so easily. The girl's going to be a distraction to the plan."

Kiba looked up at Tsume, but nodded. None of them had been expecting their plans to deviate in such an unexpected way. There had been placed an odd diversion in front of them

"He'll bring her to us." Cheza said, her eyes seeing beyond the rusted walls "We'll all be together again." She said, a smile playing on her lips.

"And then what?" Tsume said, his voice still harsh. It didn't take much to tell that he had more important things on his mind besides a person he could barely remember, nor really care about. It all had come back to him in pieces. His past was still a bit hazy at parts, and painful memories held themselves a healthy distance from his mind. He remembered the girl, Blue, but his memory of her was more a mix of emotions and feelings than an actual recollection. It was like how he was slowly remembering Hige. There had been far too much pain and guilt to fully comprehend his husky, happy friend, but hew knew who the guy was and knew he didn't hate him. He was taking this all one step at a time. He wasn't like Kiba; he didn't know if he was strong enough to remember it all at once.

"Then we continue with what we already decided. We'll start looking." Kiba said, his voice the opposite of Tsume's, completely convinced and full of a desire that hadn't died in all this eternal time. His

"For _Paradise_ right?" Toboe fidgeted back and forth on his feet, the shadow of a tail wagging on the dark stone wall behind him, a trick of the dying sun.

Kiba's only answer was to look longingly at the setting sun, its shadow slowly disappearing as the night strengthened its glow. Next to him, Cheza had a smile across her face, a warming emotion that covered the clouds over her eyes, sending sensations through all three men.

"He found her." Cheza said as she smiled, the dying sun watching them all from the sky.

* * *

End of Chapter Two.

Now that we've gotten to see a few more characters from the anime into the story line, it's my worry that I'm not keeping cannon enough to their true characteristics. I'm not so much worried with Blue because she was such an open character to begin with, but I hope I'm doing justice to Hige and the rest. If anyone has any comments on this be sure to say so, I'd love to hear what everyone thinks.

**To my faithful readers:**

Thank you. Thank you so much for sticking with me. I have been a horrible authoress to you all. I got horrendously stuck with this story in this chapter and just had to take a break. I'm back now, and I fully intend to finally give you all an ending you deserve. Funny story is that I have had this whole story planned out, I know what happens…I just need to actually write it. So, without further ado, let it begin, again, for the last time.

_-S. Angeldust._


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